I don’t stutter around just anybody. No sir-ee. Anyone who knows stuttering knows that stuttering is situational and variable. My stuttering also happens to be unpredictable, even after all this time. Sometimes I just don’t feel comfortable stuttering freely. When in that situation, I know it right away. I feel it. I feel tense both emotionally and physically.

This is what happens physically. My heart pounds really fast and loud. I can hear it acutely. I do some swaying (if I’m standing) and I look fidgety.

This is what happens below the surface, or emotionally. My thoughts are racing, I am engaging in self talk, I might possibly be planning on word switching and I am definitely not actively listening to whoever else is talking. And my old friend, Avoidance, might show up.

Now you might wonder, how is this possible with this enlightened lady who tells us how comfortable she is with stuttering and how she doesn’t want to be fixed. Well, this speaks to the very complexity and variability of stuttering. I admit it. Perfect, I’m not. (Although, I certainly tried for years to be perfect).

This is my subconscious, self preservation mode kicking in. If I don’t know you well or don’t feel comfortable, this almost automatic emotional reaction kicks in. Sometimes I don’t know this has happened until it has happened. It’s sort of like a broken kickstand on a bike.

But, if I am really comfortable with you and our space, then something magical happens. It is stutter-eze. I freely stutter and let you see all of me. I let you in. I speak from the heart and with the heart.

I have had more and more of these conversations lately. Seems that when I speak stutter-eze, it is both physical and emotional. It is my stuttering heart. What a beautiful thing to realize. If you want to understand the language of love and heart, listen to stutter-eze.